


What Could Go Wrong the Second Time Around?

by remanth



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Sherlock - Freeform, Wholock, case!fic, doctor who - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-26 23:58:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1707320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remanth/pseuds/remanth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Martha search for an alien killing people in London that has hidden itself in the clinic John Watson works at. Enter Sherlock Holmes, who's investigating the same case the Doctor is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Could Go Wrong the Second Time Around?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Jarethsslave over on dA who prompted me with something Wholock related.

“I still don’t think this is a good idea,” Martha muttered as she paced the little examination room she and the Doctor were waiting in. Two steps up, turn, two steps back, and repeat. She’d lost track of how many times she’d made the circuit, though had tried to count in the beginning. “Last time you decided to mess about in hospital, we ended up on the moon. Everyone almost _died_!”

“Oh come on, Martha, what could go wrong?” the Doctor replied with what he fondly thought was a reassuring smile. It just looked cocky, in Martha’s opinion. His brown eyes radiated excited amusement. “Nothing’s the same this time around. We’re looking for a doctor this time and there’s no Judoon. We’re also not stuck on the moon, so no worries about the air.”

A quiet knock on the door interrupted Martha before she could say anything so she settled for a glare at the Doctor as she crossed her arms over her chest. A shorter man came in, light blond hair wisping over his forehead and his dark blue eyes scanning the chart he’d grabbed from the box on the door. He looked up and smiled, a warm and comforting smile. Martha felt as if this doctor knew exactly what he was doing and nothing could go wrong.

“Hello, Mr. Smith, I’m Dr. Watson,” the man said, looking down at the chart for just a second to refresh his memory on his patient’s name. “What seems to be the trouble today?”

“Oh, you know,” the Doctor said airily, waving a hand. “Just wanted to come in for a check-up. One of the blokes about my age at the office had a heart attack recently and it’s been a while since I’ve been in to the doctor. Just wanted to make sure everything’s ticking away as it should be.”

“Well, we can definitely make sure you’re in good health,” Dr. Watson nodded, setting the chart on the desk next to the examination table. He pulled the stethoscope from around his neck and breathed on it, warming the cool metal. “Would you mind unbuttoning your shirt so I can listen to your heart?”

The Doctor nodded, unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it down his shoulders. Dr. Watson placed the stethoscope on the left side of his chest, nodding faintly as he listened to the heartbeat. He moved the stethoscope to the right side, a small furrow appearing in the middle of his forehead as he listened. Martha hid a grin behind one hand, knowing exactly what was happening. It had happened to her, the first time she’d met the Doctor. The Doctor even gave Dr. Watson the same cheeky smile he’d given Martha, as if daring the doctor to say what he was thinking. Dr. Watson shook his head and moved to the Doctor’s back, moving the stethoscope from place to place as he listened. Finally, he stepped back and fixed the Doctor with a stern glare.

“All right, mate, I don’t know how you’re doing it, but this prank stops,” Dr. Watson said. “I don’t appreciate it and I think it’s time for you to leave.”

“No, no, you can’t go in there, he’s seeing a patient,” a nurse’s frantic voice cut in as the door to the examination room flew open. Sherlock stood there, customary Belstaff fluttering around his legs as he fended off the nurse trying to pull him back towards the waiting room.

“John, I figured out the connection,” Sherlock said, a wide grin pulling at his lips. His eyes were bright, almost manic, and he was almost fidgeting in his excitement. Though the smile faded when he caught sight of the Doctor. “You.”

“Yes, me. Hello Sherlock. Fancy meeting you here,” the Doctor said, pulling his shirt back on and studiously doing up the buttons. “This is that friend you were talking about, then?”

“Wait, what?” John spluttered, looking from Sherlock to the Doctor and back again. “Sherlock, you know this man? Who is he? I thought he was here on a prank. No one has two heartbeats.”

Sherlock let out a chuckle and just shook his head. It hadn’t taken him long to deduce that the Doctor wasn’t human though he still hadn’t yet figured out exactly what he was. The Doctor refused to tell him, remarking that a brain such as Sherlock’s should be able to figure it out if he just applied it more fervently. The question had been nagging at Sherlock off and on since he’d met the Doctor though not enough to tell John about it. He _hated_ not knowing the answers to something. Luckily, for Sherlock at least, the Doctor had appeared in the middle of one of his cases when John was out of the country on a medical conference.

“No one human,” Sherlock finally replied, eyeing Martha for a moment before dismissing her. A doctor, like John, though not quite out of training yet. She hadn’t been travelling with the Doctor long as she still looked wide-eyed and slightly out her depth. And she had feelings for the Doctor, feelings that the man didn’t return nor was aware of. “Remember when you were at that conference? The Doctor helped me with a case. Apparently, the thief was an alien he was trying to stop. What are you here for now, Doctor?”

“Someone is murdering people,” the Doctor replied, a scowl twisting at his lips. “Someone who doesn’t belong here. I came to stop them before anyone else gets hurt. Let me guess, Sherlock. You traced the victims to this clinic and deduced that it must be one of the doctors who is the culprit.”

“Nurse, actually,” Sherlock replied with a knowing smirk. He lifted his chin with a touch of pride while John just goggled at him. He’d studied the files nearly as much as Sherlock had and hadn’t made the connection to his own clinic.

“That’s brilliant,” John blurted out, earning the quick flash of a genuinely pleased smile from Sherlock.

“That may be brilliant, but what do we do now?” Martha cut in firmly, arms still crossed over her chest. “There are more nurses here than there are doctors. And the bodies showed very little knowledge of surgical techniques or of anatomy. It was more ripping into them randomly. How do we narrow it down?”

“Well if you had just asked instead of going through this farce,” John said irritably, glaring at the Doctor again. Though his glance at Martha held a touch of respect, one doctor towards another. “We hired a new nurse just before the first body was found. She’s your likely suspect.”

“Jane Wright,” Sherlock said smugly, turning and gesturing for John to precede him. “Her shift started the same time as yours so she should be here. Shall we?”

The Doctor hopped off the examination table and hurried out of the room, Sherlock close on his heels. John and Martha followed, trading wry looks at the impatience in their friends. John held out a hand for Martha to shake as they walked, introducing himself with his full name while Martha did the same. Ahead, Sherlock and the Doctor were arguing quietly over where Jane might be.

“So, how long have you been a doctor?” John asked while they waited for the argument to die down. Honestly, he’d been so busy the world could have ended and he wouldn’t have noticed. Jane could be anywhere in the clinic.

“Oh, I’m not yet,” Martha replied shaking her head. She glanced towards the Doctor, eyes narrowing as she gauged whether she needed to jump into the argument and get everyone moving again. “I’m still training. How about you?”

“Oh, quite a few years now,” John replied, studying Sherlock. The other man was making grand gestures with one hand, a sure sign of impatience. Next would come hair fluffing if Sherlock was well and truly frustrated. “I was in the army before I was discharged. Came back here and met Sherlock.”

“How long have you two been together?” Martha asked curiously.

“Oh, we’re not.. no I’m not,” John stammered, shaking his head. “We’re just friends. Flatmates. I’m not gay.”

“Sorry, just you guys kind of gave off that vibe,” Martha replied, laughing quietly. Sherlock and the Doctor wrapped up their argument, Sherlock gesturing violently down one hallway while the Doctor just sighed and nodded. They strode off quickly, not bothering to check and see if Martha and John were following. The hallway led to an emergency exit, the alarm turned off so the smokers could have a convenient exit for their smoke breaks. There were a few people standing outside, stamping their feet against the cold as white smoke curled above their heads. Jane wasn’t among them but Sherlock strode off down the alley confidently. Quiet noises came from a shadowed doorway, followed by a rhythmic thumping.

John hurried ahead of Sherlock, recognizing that sound from one terrifying evening in Afghanistan. What he found crouched in that alley in no way resembled Jane but he knew it had to be her. The creature was still wearing her scrubs with her name tag attached. A small boy was kicking feebly at the doorway, terror and despair in his eyes. The creature had long claws buried in his belly, blood welling up around them and leaking down his sides. John rushed at the creature with Sherlock while Martha pulled the boy away from them. She worked quickly, taking the jacket the Doctor shoved at her after removing his sonic screwdriver from the pocket. She staunched the blood while talking soothingly to the boy, taking a moment to press a hand to his forehead comfortingly. The boy smiled up at her beatifically, relaxing into her care.

While John distracted the creature so it couldn’t sink it’s claws into Sherlock, Sherlock managed to get behind it and lock his arms around its waist. Unfortunately, a quick twist allowed it to keep one hand free and it clawed at the arms around its waist. Sherlock grunted with the pain but held on as tightly as he could. John risked a glance back at the Doctor, angrily wondering why he wasn’t doing anything. He managed to see the Doctor fiddling with someone in his hands for a moment before a piercing wail rose from whatever it was. John clapped his hands over his ears while Martha screamed. She couldn’t close her ears to the sound, not and save the boy. Sherlock bellowed in pain, still fighting to keep the creature contained.

Yet his efforts didn’t seem to be needed as the creature John knew as Jane crumpled to the ground, keening in pain. The Doctor didn’t let up on the sound until the creature was unconscious, body lying feebly on the ground with Sherlock still tangled with it. Once the wail was shut off, John helped Sherlock untangle himself, pulling off his lab coat and using it to staunch the cuts on his arms. After pulling some rope from a pocket that seemed far too small to hold it, the Doctor tied the creature up and tucked it further into the shadowed doorway. It would keep long enough to get the boy and Sherlock into the clinic. He picked up the boy while Martha still held his jacket against the wounds in his belly, John following with Sherlock. The nurses at the door were just picking themselves up from where they’d fallen, rubbing at their ears.

With an exclamation, the taller one opened the door and called for one of the doctors to come help. Sherlock’s wounds weren’t all that serious though John cleaned and stitched them himself. Only a couple were deep enough to require stitches. The little boy was in a more critical condition and it took two doctors and three nurses to help Martha save him. While the worked, the Doctor headed back out to secure the creature in the TARDIS. He’d take it back to its own homeworld for trial. He met Martha about an hour later, the woman scrubbing blood from her hands and forearms. John and Sherlock were talking quietly behind her, John swatting at Sherlock’s hands every once in a while when the detective tried to scratch at his stitches.

“Well, meeting you is always interesting,” Sherlock drawled when he caught sight of the Doctor again. “Next time, we should just have a cup of tea.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” the Doctor asked, flashing Sherlock a cheeky grin. He checked on Martha, making sure she and the little boy were okay. She smiled tiredly at him and nodded. Everyone would live, this time. “Though it was nice to meet you, Dr. Watson. Sherlock had many good things to say about you.”

“Did he now?” John asked, slanting an amused look up at Sherlock. “He told me he complained to the skull the whole time I was gone. Apparently, I’m a better conversationalist. What will happen to Jane? Or whoever that creature was?”

“A trial on its homeworld,” the Doctor nodded, a stern look coming into his eyes. “I’ve already taken care of it. Martha, are you ready to continue on?”

“I think so,” Martha nodded, handing the Doctor his blood-stained jacket back. “Let’s go somewhere pleasant, yeah?”

“Until next time, Doctor,” Sherlock said, holding out a hand for the Doctor to shake. He did so and waved to John as he and Martha walked away. It was nice to end things pleasantly. And it wasn’t often one met Sherlock Holmes. Even if the Doctor had only known him from stories until the last time they’d met.


End file.
